The 1993 Grand Slam…

the grand slam...only, it wasnt a racquet in hand, and my dad wasnt in white shorts πŸ˜€

…was served by my dad — and received first, by me somewhere on the back of my right thigh, and after approximately 3 seconds, by my brother at more or less the same spot on his πŸ˜€ !

It was some time in April 1993, during our summer holidays! We used to live in this awesome house set in the midst of 1.5 acres of white sand and lush greens…in the then little town of Guruvayur! I was 8 then (my brother, 11) — a naughty, impish girl who used to create havoc within the house all the time, and when thrown out, amidst my brother’s friends! πŸ˜€ .

We considered ourselves the luckiest among my cousins (who all lived either in crammed apartments in huge cities or in little rooms put together in 2 cents of land and called a ‘house’!) πŸ˜› and I used to walk around singing praise of this beautiful house and the space around it.

All sorts of pranks, mischiefs and tomfoolery were allowed for by dad and mom. “Ee praayathil nalla akramam venam pillerkk”, they used to say (It’s the age when kids should be naughty). πŸ˜‰ We used to dress up the poor cow in its own dung; we used to hide behind bushes and throw huge, but dead, Eveready batteries at poor Raman Nair, the old-man-with-bracket-legs, who used to look after the trees and the soil spread over 1.5 acres; we used to steal mom’s starched sarees from her cupboards and make tents with it (we thought she never knew!); we used to pack pepper leaves in small packets and throw it on the road, catching some poor betel chewer unawares! We used to go to the temple every morning just to get the yummy prasadam; we used to make mud-pies (i actually tasted one!) and serve our friends; we used to play lagorie/seven-stones (i used to get badly hit by the guys!); we used to catch thumbis and then guilt-ridden, let them go; we used to build tents and make dad inaugurate them, urge him to step in (every time, it would be too low for his height, too fragile and would collapse over his head) and blame him for the destruction; we used to frolic all the time in the wide, deep pond without the slightest fear — until I drowned once! But that was never an issue. I decided never to drown again…and we continued our swimming adventures πŸ˜€

Didn't quite have the time to notice dad's expression...but am damn sure it was something like this -- an evil grin mixed with surprise, anger and that just-up-from-sleep blankness!

The only thing NOT allowed: we were warned never to scream while dad was asleep. And that’s just what I did that day in April 1993. πŸ˜€

We were playing police and thief. When it was my turn to be thief, the ‘police’ came chasing and I ran for my life (and loot)! Went rushing into the kitchen from where mom shooed us out. The only place left for me to run into was my parent’s bedroom…and, forgetting the fact that dad was enjoying his after-lunch nap, I let out a blood-curdling scream and ran into his room. By the time I’d half-circled across his bed and reached the other side, he was up! The first thing he got in his hand was my grandfather’s walking stick.

I ran, he swung. The timings clicked. That aristocratic-looking smooth, 1-inch diametre stick kissed me — violently on the backside of my right thigh.

Silent. Breathless. Motionless.

Too late to realise, my brother pushed me ahead. Dad swung it high again. My brother found himself in exactly the same spot I had been approximately 3 seconds ago. The timings clicked again. Apparently, the stick was highly confused in matters of sexual interests! It kissed him too! πŸ˜€

Silent. Breathless. Motionless.

We both strode across the huge hall, entered our room, locked the door, went to our respective beds, pressed our face down into our pillows — and screamed in pain!

Some slam it was! Oh my god! I felt like I was a sheet of crumpled paper that had been floating around and suddenly settled down in a fire, flames licking at me with their rough tongues!

My dad never hit us ever again. In return for that favour, we never screamed while he slept. πŸ˜€

Now, tell me this — do you have a ‘hit’ story that can beat this one (no pun intended) ?

P.S.: In 1993, the Grand Slam was Steffi Graf’s too! The US Open, Wimbledon and French Open πŸ˜€
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18 thoughts on “The 1993 Grand Slam…

  1. lol…thankfully i have no such Hit story in my history πŸ™‚

    But your post so very sweet….I mean I could very well imagine you running around. Just half an hour back i was reminiscing few of my childhood incidents with a colleague. It is always fun to go down that lane…:)

  2. @Smita
    Welcome to AlphabetWorld! πŸ™‚
    You have no such story?? So yu were an obedient gal, then ! πŸ˜‰
    Breezed thru you blog…like what i saw…am rolling yu to mine πŸ˜‰

    @Reema
    Hehe…obedient gals too many around, i say! πŸ˜›

  3. HAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAH
    AAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA
    HHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHA
    AHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA!!!!!!!!

    πŸ˜€

    I’m not saying anything… The thought of you running around the house screaming and your dad whacking you on your butt with a stick… Oh shitt!!! Here I go again! πŸ˜€

    HAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAH
    AAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA
    HHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHA
    AHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA!!!!!!!!

  4. @Binu
    πŸ™‚

    @Nikhil
    Yu’re rude! And, he did not whack me on my butt! πŸ˜›
    Well, we still laugh about this every once in a while…and for the record, I’m still scared to wake my dad up from sleep…even if he specifically asks me tu du it, I tremble at the thought πŸ˜€

  5. Well my pts have never hit me but i remember those days too in the 90s as a reckless and carefree kid loving to spend my vacations at my grndpts place which was in a village near Kanyakumari. I was the ever obedient-boy πŸ˜› and the only kind of trouble iv given ppl is falling down n getting hurt myself πŸ˜€ (which i did a lot!!!) But during the vacations all my cousins would end up coming to my grandfathers house n v used to have a ball. In the mornings we would accompany my granddad to his farms when he went to overlook the work there. Rest of the day went in running & catching and what not. There was no tv. the only source of entertainment was a quaint radio which would even tune into stations from Sri Lanka! In the evenings the neighboring kids would put small candles in cardboard-cars and race them down the street and we would watch from the terrace. Dinner would be held in the open veranda under the starry night-sky. Those were really THE days.

    I feel kids today miss out on such experiences. I see 10 yr old kids caught in tutions everyday or glued to their tv and myspace and orkut. I feel theyre missing out on the REAL world.

  6. @Ulag
    Yeah…that way, I was lucky…i spent the right part of my childhood in the right place!

    Nowadays, kids are glued to Pokemon and WWF and what nots πŸ˜€ They wont have much memories to look back up on !

  7. he he.. nice one… even i hav got loads of beatings wen i was really young.. cant even remember the incidents. though i know for sure tat my mom is extremely patient n wud hav beat me only after i had crossed the line way over…

    n ya.. i too kinda feel tat kids dees days miss out on things like dees.. wid all video games n comps n sophisticated parenting n all… nothing to look back n laugh fo rdees kids i guess( though i m not suggesting the parents to hit der kids jus for future nostalgic purposes :D)

  8. πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€ LOL. I don’t have any ‘hit’ story neither my duaghter! πŸ™‚

    i loved the ‘sexual prefernce’ of your dad’s stick, or rather the lack of it!!

    πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€

    And hey you changed the theme again? i liked the previous one better! Probably its just the matter of getting used to something!! πŸ™‚

  9. @AV
    Thanks! Aaaah…finally! someone who’s got ‘hit’ memories πŸ˜› i was getting a lil’ worried thinking i’m the only brat in here πŸ˜€

    and yes, i pity the kids these days…

    @Sakhi
    πŸ˜€ yea…more like “the lack of it” all right !

    Well, tried a few themes…the only one that suits me somehow is this one! So, am bac with the red-and-black πŸ˜€

  10. hehehehe… i too had a lot of fun in my childhood days.. our favourite game was bhoot-bhoot.. the bhoot had to cover his entire face with PONDS talcum powder.. and put on red lipstick.. it was really sick.. we looked more like jokers.. but it was fun !! πŸ˜€

    Too bad u got whacked by ur dad πŸ˜›

    I’ll let u in on sumthin… I still get whacked by my mom sometimes !!!!! 😦

  11. nalla thallu kollitharam undaayirunnu le?…and 23 vayassaayi alle? oru cheriya calculation nadathi πŸ˜€ !!!!

    I have a similar ‘hit’ story…once my bro and me came arguing from school and it ended up in a big fight as we reached home…dad had just woken up from his evening nap to go to office in the night…tolerated it for sometime…paavathinte samanila thetti..pulled bro, hit him hard….pulled me, hit me real hard…he’d never raised his hands before ..deham motham neela niram aayappol achchante kannu niranju…and he never hit us after that. pakshe, we never stopped fighting, decided to ignore it; and ammakku njangal oru nithya harida thalavedanayum aaydadi !!!

    Those mannappams and kuttiperaas;just made them once during one of our vacations to india. The next time I came down, i expressed my wish to make them once more, people changed so much that I was ridiculed to tears. ente ullillulla kuttiye aarum manasaakiyilla 😦

    Thanks for taking me back in time !

  12. @Anu
    Hehe…yea…bhoot-bhoot sounds fun…sounds like the sick games we used tu play too! We used tu play skating…by sprinkling PONDS (yey!) talcum powder on the floor, in the path tht connects 2 rooms…and we used to skate from one end tu the other, hitting against each wall. The game was banned after I once ran from the balcony at the sight of my uncle downstairs (he ALWAYS brought chocolate ice cream for me) and skid across our ‘skating rink’, went ‘thud thud thud’ down the stairway (14 steps!) and landed promptly at my uncle’s feet πŸ˜€

    @Vimal
    Athe…thallikollitharam enne vaakku kandupidichathe njaan janichu kazhinjaa πŸ˜€ And yes, yu’re good in math! πŸ˜‰

    hehe…liked yur hit story…
    *ente ullillulla kuttiye aarum manasaakiyilla 😦 * paavam…vishamikkandaatto…next time yu come to india, gimme a call! we’ll make some really yummy mannappams tugether! Wot say? πŸ˜€

  13. Im in India now; thats what I will say!!! njangal pandu ‘gelf’ il undaayiruuna kaalathey kadhayaa paranjadu…avidunnu kuttiyum parichu vannu 12 kollamaayi πŸ˜€

    Btw, thats one of the sweetest reply I’ve got for a comment!!!

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